


jasmine tea

by Quillium



Series: a cup of tea [24]
Category: Daredevil (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, Gen, at one point matt calls peter his kid and i'm soft, it's written as a lil breather, that's it. that's literally it. that's the fic, when i say 'a peaceful afternoon drinking tea'
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:53:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26752387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quillium/pseuds/Quillium
Summary: Peter is ready to move, so he bounces over to Matt and puts his head on Matt’s shoulder and says in the most disgusted voice he can muster, “Work, disgusting. Get rid of it.”Matt smiles despite himself, Peter can see the wobble at the edge of his lips that means he’s trying to prevent himself from smiling and failing. “This needs to be done, Peter.”OR: A peaceful afternoon drinking tea.
Relationships: Matt Murdock & Peter Parker
Series: a cup of tea [24]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/803463
Comments: 47
Kudos: 306





	jasmine tea

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, y'all! Checklist time. You slept min. 8 hours straight last night AND it's not past your bedtime? If not, you can't read this. "But Quill," you say, "If those are the standards, I'll NEVER read this fic!" Well. That's too bad for you. Get some sleep. Take care of yourself. If you've slept enough, are hydrated, and have stretched in the past hour, you're free to pass. If not, do it now, because you won't do it later, no matter what you tell yourself. Love you. Be kind to yourself, for my sake if nothing else.

The day outside is gold and vivid, a lifelike dream, sky blue, sunlight making the leaves of the tree on their balcony glow, and Peter is tired.

It isn’t strange, he thinks, this lethargy, but it’s been a while since it came and he has work to do from school, stuff about mathematical proofs and limits.

If only he could get himself to  _ move _ .

Instead he’s staring out the window, watching quietly, not even counting the seconds or thinking of anything, just existing, here, quiet, faint, breathing.

Isn’t that enough?

Yes, he thinks so.

Matt’s not supposed to be working today, but Peter can still hear it, the clacking of keys as Matt types something, the reader on his laptop going through documents that don’t need to be done today but Matt will finish anyways.

It’s peaceful.

There is work to be done but Peter feels no rush, no anxiety, there isn’t a tight feeling in his chest despite the deadline tonight. He will get it done, this isn’t procrastinating, it’s just living, really, and isn’t that enough?

It’s more than enough, probably.

He doesn’t know how to feel about this moment, isn’t sure whether it’s good for the calm it brings or bad because he’s not working, but he enjoys it, so it’s probably good.

He tips his head back, looks at the sky, breathes a bit.

Time passes. He doesn’t keep track. He is content just being.

And then Peter is ready to move, so he bounces over to Matt and puts his head on Matt’s shoulder and says in the most disgusted voice he can muster, “Work,  _ disgusting _ . Get rid of it.”

Matt smiles despite himself, Peter can see the wobble at the edge of his lips that means he’s trying to prevent himself from smiling and failing. “This needs to be done, Peter.”

“Not to _ night _ , it doesn’t. Didn’t Foggy say to take a break? Live a little?”

“If I get it done now, I can rest better later.”

“This is next week’s work.”

“Not it--no, it’s not!”

“It is! Your voice went all squeaky.”

“I’m a great liar.”

“So you were lying.”

“I’m letting you have this. If I really wanted to lie to you, you would never catch me slipping.”

“Of course, Mr. Dark and Broody and Angsty and Full of Secrets and--”

“Did Tony teach you this sass? Is this because of Tony?”

“How dare. I was always like this.”

Matt laughs and allows Peter to pull him up to standing. “Okay, you got me. Now what?”

Peter pretends to think of it, tapping his nose and swaying back and forth on his feet, just for show, of course. “We’ll have a nice, calming cup of tea.”

“Of course.”

Peter nods, beaming. “Of course!”

“Shall I make it?”

“No, I will. You just sit.”

Matt rolls his eyes, purely so that Peter can see, and then, because he’s lame and tragic, asks, “Did you see me roll my eyes?”

“Yes, it was very sassy, very teenager-like, very--”

“Okay, okay, I won’t do it again.”

“Thank you. Leave the eye rolling to me.”

“Do you ever roll your eyes?”

“Not in front of you.”

“You know I can hear the squelch of your eyes--”

“Yup, and that’s  _ exactly _ why I don’t. I don’t want to think of the ‘squelch of my eyes’ every time I roll them.”

Matt laughs.

Peter beams. The day is successful.

“Okay, I know that you’ve dragged me away from my work, but how’s  _ yours _ ?”

“I’ll get it done later.” Peter pouts. “Have some faith in me.”

“A difficult task, to be sure--”

Peter laughs as he shoves Matt’s arm.

Matt smiles and lets Peter push him onto the couch before Peter pulls out the water filter from the fridge to pour into the kettle.

He pulls out the mugs when the kettle turns on, pulls out the tea bags and smiles a bit. Some of the other teas, like pomegranate, have a strong scent even just in their bags, but jasmine is more mild and the fragrance doesn’t really come out until it’s put in the water.

“Use the tea leaves!” Matt yells from the living room.

“I don’t know how!” Peter yells back.

“Heathen!”

Peter laughs, “ _ You _ bought the tea bags!”

“They smelled good,” Matt grumps.

“Then they’ll taste good, too.”

“Tea leaves are better.”

“Pretentious! I know for a fact you like bagged tea, you’ve just been hanging out too much with the old lady three doors down.”

“Margaret knows what she’s talking about.”

“Well, you’ll just have to settle for happiness over elitism.”

“Tyrant.”

“Love you too.”

Matt grumbles, “Love you, kid.”

“Aww, you said you love me.”

“I literally adopted you.”

“You  _ love _ me. I’m your child.”

“You’re insufferable is what you are.”

“Don’t get shy about your emotions, embrace them fully!”

“Why do I ever talk. Why.”

Peter laughs as he puts the bags in the mugs and kneels on the carpet by the kettle, waiting for the pearls to start rising. Before the water boils, he turns it off and pours into the mugs, careful not to pour on the bags themselves.

He sets the timer on the oven for four minutes, puts the kettle back, and lays on Matt while he waits for the tea to properly steep.

“Do you think,” Peter asks, “That work is good for us?”

“It depends on what you call ‘work’, I suppose. For some people, drawing is work. For others, it’s a hobby. Some people love coding, others get easily frustrated by it. There’s a point where anything can become work.”

“That’s not an answer, that’s a cop-out.”

Matt laughs, “I suppose. I think we have to do things--I do think we need to be challenged and engaged, and I know that people like doing things, so long as they’re given adequate time to rest. But I think there’s too much--and I think most people live like that, where they work too much.”

“Do you think that you work too much?”

“Ah…”

“You’re self-aware and still doing nothing to change it.”

“I’m drinking tea with you, aren’t I?”

Peter hums. “I guess so. Point to you for that.”

“Do you think that you’re working too much?”

“Not really. I don’t know--Ned says that I’m rushing through work, but it doesn’t feel that way. I’m happy, even if I am doing a lot, so I think it’s okay.”

“What if you’re just not self-aware?”

“Then I have you to look after me.”

“I don’t know you as well as you know yourself, though. I can warn you of a limit, but I can’t see it for you all the time.”

“Don’t you dare--”

“Not that I can see anything anyways!”

“I hate you.”

“You love me.”

“Fortunately.”

“Shouldn’t it be unfortunately?”

“No. I’m grateful that you’re in my life.”

“Aw, kid. Thanks.”

Peter grins at Matt, despite knowing he can’t see it, and the oven timer goes off.

Peter flies up, turns it off, takes out the teabags to throw in the compost, and then brings the mugs over to Matt.

The tea smells fragrant and the first sip is a gift.

“I love this,” Peter sighs. “Buy more.”

“We still have a whole pack, Peter.”

“It’s so good. Admit it.”

“It’s good.”

Peter takes another sip and smiles. “Yeah, it is.”

He has work to do, later. But he isn’t worried, he isn’t anxious. He’s happy and at peace, and sitting here, drinking tea with Matt, he’s nothing less than grateful and content.

**Author's Note:**

> Aah it's been so long since I've written for this series? Maybe even this fandom. Gosh it's been like... 3 years since I last saw Daredevil... awejgiorsdfk. But I had so much fun. This was a very chill piece to write where I sorta just did wherever I wanted so I hope that feeling of "it's okay, just take your time, it will be okay, you're okay" got across. If you didn't listen to my note on top, listen to it now and take care of yourself. Don't forget to eat something solid too, yeah? 
> 
> If you wanna chat, get some of my headcanons, or just ask me for some positivity or even yelling at you to do the thing and take care of yourself, I'm on tumblr @quilliumwrites. Take care of yourself, love y'all


End file.
